


The One: Prequel

by motorbike_on_the_avenue



Series: The One [2]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 05:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motorbike_on_the_avenue/pseuds/motorbike_on_the_avenue
Summary: A (kind of) Prequel to my story The One.In The One Dean & Cas meet on a reality dating show.But what if they had just missed each other before?(Written because of a comment on The One. If you haven't read that first, I recommend you do as this features spoilers for that fic.)





	The One: Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel of sorts to my other fanfic titled The One. I supposed you don’t have to read that first, but if you haven’t then the ending does have a spoiler for that.   
> Someone in the comments told me their idea about Dean and Cas maybe meeting before the reality show The One is set in. I asked if I could write their idea, and they agreed, so this is for you ForgottenPrincess! I hope you like it!   
> I hope everything makes sense, and if you are interested in reading this, but haven’t read The One I would recommend reading that first.   
> All mistakes are my own.

Some people believe in fate.

Some people believe in destiny.

Some people believe in angels.

Some people believe in cupids.

Some people believe in God.

Some people believe in soulmates.

However you believe two people come together – fate, destiny, angels, cupids, or God - it doesn’t matter

It only matters that they do.

 

*

 

It wasn’t like they were supposed to be together from birth. Maybe it wasn’t even anything magical, or wondrous, or other worldly. Maybe it was just two people with shared interests and passion for the other fell in love. It’s certainly not a fact that had Dean Winchester and Castiel Shurley met each other at any other point before they took part in the reality show _The One_ that they wouldn’t have ended up together. Sure, Dean wasn’t out until his twenties, and Cas had ended the only relationship he’d been in that had involved lying and dishonesty after a week.

If they’d met when Cas was just out of the army, spending most nights in his car just staring at the sky and wandering around towns and country lanes most days, or in hospital, trying to fix his hand, it’s true that Dean might has brushed him off as someone with an issue he wouldn’t be able to help with.

Or if they’d met when they were younger, Dean never in school, talking back to teachers and thinking he was the gift that every woman wanted, Cas probably would have rolled his eyes and blamed Dean for messing up his education.

So maybe the stars aligned for them meeting when they did, when both of them were at a solid place in their lives, even if Cas still felt a little disheartened about his empty nights. Maybe Dean came into Cas’s life at the perfect time, bringing as he did with him a whole host of friends and family for Cas to slot into.

But that didn’t stop them almost meeting several times before.

 

*

 

The first time they’re seven years old. Dean’s family decide to take him and his little brother on a family trip. It’s nowhere special, just a B&B twenty minutes from the beach with some children’s activities held every afternoon in the downstairs living room. Dean’s mother is trying to get back out in the world again, after the fire which almost took her life three years ago.

Cas’s mother decides to take her two sons to the same B&B. (There was an offer in one of the national newspapers. No one else has offers in the summer holidays, so the place was booked up pretty quickly.)

Dean’s family arrived the day that Cas’s were leaving. Cas’s mother Becky, who’d promised the trip would be fun, spent the morning rushing around making sure everything was packed and cursing her eldest son, Gabriel, for being able to leave his possessions lying around everywhere and then not remember where he’d put them.

Cas was sent to the downstairs living room to doodle for the morning. He’d made a couple of friends there – two little boys and a little girl –, who’d bonded over fairy tales. Cas had a big book which his Dad had bought him when he was born, which Cas took everywhere with him. It lay open in the middle of the table, the four of them drawing each other as characters from the pages.

Cas drew one of the little boys as a Prince, golden crown shining on his golden blond head. Cas coloured the brown eyes in carefully, and was about to add the finished pencil stokes to the sword in his belt, when his mother pulled him from the table, slammed the book closed and told him to say goodbye to his friends.

When Dean arrived in the downstairs living room, thirty seconds later, he sat down at a table where two little girls and a boy were drawing quietly. He looked at the half finished drawing in front of him, a blond boy with a crown and sword, before it was removed by the lady running the place, and replaced with a fresh sheet of paper.

 

*

 

At 24 Cas was invited to a stag party for one of his medical school friends. The wedding would be two weeks afterwards and Cas was looking forward to a night out.

What he wasn’t looking forward to was a three-hour drive so they could have the stag party in a bar where the groom had supposedly spent most of his teenage years. With nothing but time on his hands, Cas would have trouble not letting his thoughts take over (he’d perfect that act over time, but was a few years off shutting his thoughts and emotions down).

Two hours into the journey, his car started making noises, and smoking. He pulled over to the side of the completely dead road he was driving on, and called a local garage to help him out. He knew nothing about cars, and didn’t much feel like popping the hood, rolling his sleeves up and even attempting to have a look.

When the repair truck he’ called pulled up, there were two men inside. Cas stayed by the hood of his car, sun obstructing his vision and glinting off the windscreen on the truck. A middle-aged man with a bushy beard strolled up to discuss the car with Cas.      

‘I’m afraid I’m not too good with cars,’ Cas said.

‘I can see that,’ the guy said, walking around the car, bending to check something on the lower half. Just because his car wasn’t modern, or sleek, or whatever it was that made a car guy easy to identify.

‘Sorry to call you out,’ Cas said for lack of anything better.

‘No problems, it’s my job,’ the guy said. He was looking at the engine now, turning things this way and that. ‘It doesn’t look too bad,’ he said, going on to explain what was wrong with it. Cas nodded, but the information seemed to leak out, words disappearing from his brain as soon as the guy said them. ‘It shouldn’t take too long, I’ve got what I need in the truck. Give me a couple of minutes, and you’ll be on your way.’ The guy walked back to his truck, his words to his work mate carrying back over on the wind to Cas.

‘Nah, don’t worry about getting out Dean. It’s a simple job, and you’ve been working all morning. You’re only supposed to be helping me with the cars back at the garage anyway. I’ll do this one.’

A couple of minutes later, Bobby – as the guy had told Cas his name was – was driving past, Cas’s car now smoke free and soundless. Cas raised a hand in a goodbye, swearing he saw a hand out the passenger side window waving bye to him too.

 

*

 

Almost five years after that almost encounter, Cas went to stay in Kanas for a couple of months. He was researching the local graveyard, which was said to be a gateway to hell.

Dean had lived in Kanas his whole life. He walked those streets on a daily basis, had been sneaking into the local bars since he was 14, gave directions to non-locals when they asked.

Cas stayed with a local family who were fans of the books he wrote. The mother had helped him out on a couple of occasions before – putting him in contact with a friend of hers who’s house had a poltergeist, advising him on spells he’d come across. She was a practising Wiccan, and stayed up nights with Cas having talks with him about the other worlds she believed were out there.

She stayed the night with him in the graveyard, bringing coffee (and vodka) with her in a flask, and checked blankets to wrap around themselves. She didn’t mind when Cas would suddenly leap from his spot on the ground, to approach suspicious activity.

At around 3 in the morning, when the wind was whistling through the trees, and everything had been quiet for about an hour, there was a loud laugh from the other side of the fence. They’d walked through the graves earlier, Cas making notes of where the famous graves were, and had taken up position for the night.

‘What was that?’ Cas asked. Not a lot spooked him anymore, but he was getting a little older, and although he’d deny it, had almost been asleep. Even with the wind whistling around him.

‘Probably just the firemen on their way home from their shift,’ Rowena said. ‘They’re always so loud. Think they own the place.’ Cas gave her a half smile, wide awake now. ‘One of them used to get in trouble for climbing over the fence. We should be lucky they’ve grown up and won’t disturb us tonight.’ Cas was only half listening. There were sounds coming from somewhere near them, he was sure of it. A scratching maybe? Faint screams?

Another, deeper laugh shook him out of concentration again.

He had no idea just who was walking past.

 

*

 

Cas hadn’t wanted to go to a bar, but Rowena had insisted. She told him his visit gave her an excuse to get out of her house, and she’d be very upset if he didn’t go along with it.

She’d been cutting strawberries with a sharp knife at the time, and though Cas was 99% sure she wouldn’t actually cause him harm – he wouldn’t have stayed with her family if he had the slightest alarm for his wellbeing – he’d previously looked in some of her spell books. There were things in there Cas wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy and his paranoid thoughts would always wonder if there was some magic in the air if someone bad did happen to him.

The bar was called ‘The Roadhouse’ and there were two blonde woman serving drinks behind it. It was a little rough for Cas’s liking – bricks exposed, floors covered in dirt and grime – but everyone there seemed to be in good spirits and Cas found himself having fun as the night worse on. Rowena flirted with everyone she spoke to, a charming smile and a toss of her red hair attracting her fair share of attention.

Cas was flirting too, but as he was a guest in someone’s house, he wasn’t going to take things any further. Even if Rowena was encouraging him.

‘Oh, he looks like he’d be up for anything. You should go for it,’ she kept whispering in his ear. At one point she waved at someone on the other side of the bar, beckoning them over. ‘I know the perfect guy for you!’ she said to Cas, leaning over her barstool so he could hear her. ‘He’s a fireman, very sexy. The one I told you about the other night in the graveyard, remember?’ Cas nodded but moved back, alarmed by the smell of whiskey on Rowena’s breath. She’d told him she’d only had two. ‘Never mind, then. It seems his attention has been taken by someone else,’ Rowena said bitterly. Cas glanced in the same direction. Someone had their broad back to them.

Cas had been able to tell that the person had turned away into nothing. Rowena’s view, partially blocked by a beam, meant she couldn’t see that whoever she was trying to call had been avoiding her. Cas had smiled into his drink. A month of Rowena had been a little much; so much so, Cas had decided to cut his trip short. He had everything he needed anyway. Usually he stayed a little longer, just to make sure everything was fact checked and tripled checked before he put it down in print.

On the way out of the bar – a couple of hours later, as Rowena refused to leave – Cas bumped into someone. He mumbled a ‘sorry’ and heard a ‘no problem’ in return, a rough deep voice, that had him glancing back for a second look – but there was already someone pushing him from behind on their way to fresh air outside and he left, the voice fading from his memories.

 

*

 

On his last day in Kanas, Cas wandered further than he meant to. He did this in all the towns he visited, needing time to collect his thoughts, plan his next book out in his head, what parts should be written about and what parts wouldn’t matter. He was usually pretty good at finding his way back, but for some reason he just appeared to be going around in circles today.

He spotted a fire truck parked outside a house. He’d decided it was his best bet, and stopped near the back doors, waiting for someone to appear.

He could just make out voices coming from around the back of the house.

‘Here you go. One cat safely delivered,’ said a deep voice.

‘Oh, thank you, Dean. You are good to me. I know you’re allergic, and I do try to stop him from going up the tree, but you know Crumbs. A mind of his own.’

Cas waits, until the fireman walks around from the side of the house. There’s a hat on his head, as he reaches the back of his truck, rummaging for something inside.

‘Excuse me? I was wondering if you could tell me how to get back to the graveyard?’ Cas asked. The fireman, standing in the back of the truck turns his head slightly.

‘Yeah. Tell you what, if you want, I’m going back that way myself. I’ll…’ he trails off as there’s a crackling from the radio on his waistband. ‘Ah, that’s work. Sorry, buddy, I’m heading in the other direction now. Just follow this road down, then take the next left and the next two rights, and you’ll be able to see it.’

‘Thank you,’ Cas said, already making steps down the road.

‘No problem,’ said the man, calling after him.

 

Dean was too busy caught up in his everyday thoughts to pay much attention to the man asking him questions. Not to mention the black umbrella the guy was holding, shielding most of his face from Dean’s view.

 

*

 

Dean banged his way into his house, to find his best friend Charlie waiting in his kitchen doorway.  

‘Three hours,’ he said. ‘I waited three hours for him to show up.’

‘I’m so sorry!’ Charlie said ‘But I told you internet dating was hard.’

‘You internet date all the time!’ Dean fell into the sofa, arm thrown over his eyes. Maybe he should just give up. Dating obviously wasn’t for him. There was no one out there for him. He’d be single for ever.

‘And it’s hard!’ Charlie shouted from the kitchen. There was a clinking of glasses and sloshing as liquid was poured. ‘Internet dating is one of the worst things that has arisen from such a joyous thing.’ Dean felt the couch dip as Charlie sat next to him. ‘Here. Cheers.’ A shot glass is pushed into his hand and he gulps it back without checking what he’s been handed.

He shudders. ‘Charlie, I thought we agreed never to crack open the banana flavoured vodka. We didn’t want to see what horrors it had in store.’

‘Well it was all you had in the house, so either drink up, or spend the night sober.’ Dean leans forward, pouring himself another shot and throwing it straight back. ‘Maybe if we drink more, it will taste better?’ Charlie suggested.

After a couple of hours Dean barley notices the taste anymore. They’ve spent the night talking about all their bad dates, and it makes Dean feel a little better that Charlie’s had it as bad as he has.

It wasn’t even like he’d been looking forward to tonight. The guy was okay, average looking, but he’d been local and up for it, and Dean was having a dry spell.

‘Oh, I know what will cheer you up!’ Charlie said. She reached for the remote on the table, grabbing a bag of chips to bring back with her. ‘Season finale of _The One!’_

Dean had forgotten about that. He’d been looking forward to it all week.

‘Man, I hope Tommy wins,’ Dean said. He’s been supporting the small blond guy all the way though.

‘No way!’ Charlie said. ‘I mean I don’t like the other guy either, but he’d be more right for Sarah than Tommy!’

Dean made a noise blowing air through his mouth, and shoving Charlie gently until she falls on the other side of the sofa. She stays there, shifting into a better position to lie down and face the TV.

They watch in silence, Dean shaking his head every now and then whenever the other guy is shown. He takes another shot before the show comes back for it’s last part. He’s spent all evening forcing himself not to look up who won on his phone. He’s watched every season of _The One_ live, but the guy he was supposed to be meeting tonight insisted it was the only time he could do.

Charlie waves away his offer of another shot, shaking her head. ‘Nope. It tastes bad going down, I don’t want to know what it tastes like coming back up. If I stop now I might not spend tomorrow with my head down a toilet.’

Dean feels his nerves building as the tension builds on screen, both men standing outside the wedding venue in suits, their _The One_ bracelets dangling from their wrists. He leant forward, hands grasped in front of him, hoping that Tommy wins.

When the curtain drops, and it’s the other guy standing on the other side, Dean slumped back into his seat.

‘I give it four months. Tops,’ he said. It’s a ritual now, to state how long he thinks the couple will last.

‘Or you could believe in true love and meant to be. I think they’ll last,’ Charlie said, sitting up. Dean snorted. He couldn’t even find someone who he wanted to be with for more than a couple of months. The idea that some people just had a soulmate waiting for them seemed a little unfair.

They watch the wedding, Dean pulling faces, then watch as the host, Jo Harvelle closes the show. Charlie’s about to stop the show from playing, then lowers the remote.

‘Hey, Dean, look at this.’ She pointed at the TV. Dean’s who’d been drifting off to sleep for the last few minutes, cracked an eye open.

‘They’re advertising for the next season. They do at the end of every series finale.’ He closed his eyes again. He’s a little bit old to sleep on the sofa now, and he’ll regret it in the morning but he’s so comfy that getting up to sleep in his bed just seems like so much effort right now.

‘Yeah, but Dean.’ Charlie’s shook his arm. ‘Look! They want someone gay or bisexual for next season.’

‘Go for it then,’ Dean said. ‘But, hey, I’m definitely one of your friends and family.’

‘Dean! They don’t want women. They want a gay or bisexual man for next year.’ Dean slowly opened his eyes, blinking at the TV and reading the words there.

‘You should apply!’ Charlie said.

‘I should apply!’ Dean said. Charlie stood, gathering her laptop from her bag and bringing it back to the sofa.

‘The forms should be online, so…yes!’ Charlie brings up pages of forms, and starts typing furiously, firing questions at Dean and then answering them herself anyway.

Dean is always impressed by how fast and accurately Charlie can type when she’s drunk. It’s her party trick.

For the next few hours, they answer the pages of forms. There’s an unspoken agreement between them that if they stop, they won’t finish this when they’re sober. They have to submit tonight.

‘That’s it,’ Charlie said, a few hours later. She sat back, staring at her computer screen. ‘You’re officially in the running to be next year’s suitor on _The One.’_

Dean laughed, suddenly, breaking the tension.

‘Okay. And out of however many applicants they’re going to get, why would they choose me?’ He ran a hand down his face, then stood up and stretched. ‘I’m going to bed. You should crash on the sofa. You know where the blanket is.’ He headed to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He didn’t even think about it again until a couple of months later when he got a phone call telling him he was through to the next stage.

 

*

 

‘No,’ Cas said. Balthazar, Cas’s best friend, had been watching something on the small TV Cas had.  He was now looking at Cas with a light in his eyes.

‘Oh yes,’ said Balthazar. He approached the table where Cas was sitting. ‘You don’t even know what I want yet.’

‘I know whatever it is can’t be good,’ Cas said.

‘Well, it’s a terrible shame you won’t get a choice in the matter isn’t it?’ Balthazar said. He pulled Cas’s laptop from out of his hands, ignoring Cas’s protests and set himself up with it at the other end of the table.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Something that you’ll either thank me for, or something that won’t come to anything so it doesn’t matter either way does it?’ Balthazar said.

Half an hour later, Balthazar slid the laptop back to Cas. ‘All finished.’

‘Could you explain it to me?’ Up on the screen was a logo for _The One._ Cas knew it was a reality show – in fact, the show still paused on his TV screen – but he’d never watched it.

‘I’ve applied for us to be contestants on the next season,’ Balthazar said. Cas stared at him.

‘They’re looking for gay or bisexual men or straight / bisexual woman for the next season. I could have applied for us to be the suitor but that would mean I’d definitely have to end up marrying someone and I’m not ready for that.’

‘Why have you applied for me? You know I don’t like reality shows,’ Cas said.

‘You don’t like any shows,’ Balthazar said, rolling his eyes. ‘And if we get through, this will be a laugh, us doing it together. Don’t you want to be on TV, everyone knowing who you are?’ Cas’s thoughts fly to his parents. Neither of them have been in his life for years now. They might see it. Remember they had a couple of sons they’d left behind. ‘Plus, it’s not like you’re actually dating anyone. Don’t you think it will be good to put yourself out there?’

 

It takes a couple of months before Cas is even slightly intrigued by what Balthazar has signed him up for. When he gets the call telling him he’s through to the next stage, he feels something like excitement in his stomach.

He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t even really understand what’s happening to him.

But it feels like something right is happening, and Cas hasn’t had that feeling in a long time.

 

*

 

There are people out there who will call it fate. That Dean and Cas both applying for the show was meant to be. That some random guy dropping out just before they went to filming and Balthazar demanding Cas be given a place was written in the stars.

Neither of them would ever realise the times they came to meeting each other before the contest. They didn’t remember encounters with half faces, or names said on rainy afternoons. Once, Cas had a sense of déjà vu when he caught sight of Dean’s back in a dark bar, but the memory faded quickly when his husband turned and smiled at him.

Whatever it was that bought them together, when it did – fate, destiny, angels, God, coincidence, chance, luck, the viewing public of America’s number one dating show – both of them only knew they were grateful.


End file.
